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08-25-2013, 12:28 PM
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CIRCE He was good-looking, and he certainly knew it. The vitality in his bones showed through in curve of his neck, the stylish pace he set as he came toward the shadowmere. He reached his maw to her; it was a benign gesture, surely, but Circe was disinclined to return it. Nevertheless, she did incline her neck and head, her own gesture of civility. It was nothing personal against the grey spirit—she wasn’t in the mind to casually touch others in this misty night. *"I would rather ask what you seek from me, little maiden fair, since you so kindly warn me about the dangers of the road."* Some might skirt around this question with fancy, light-hearted words intended to soften the often frequently harsher truth of the matter. Circe was not among these “some”. “I want to know if you’re a danger to me and my herd,” she stated, quite matter-of-factly, the sultry tones devoid of any threat or anxiousness. “You’ve come upon this land in a rather unstable time, I’m afraid. No outsider is trustworthy on sight, and I seek for the protection of me and mine—it's no personal affront on you. You understand, I’m sure?” Her eyes kept lock on him, even as he lithely moved across her, his steps sure and purposeful as he ambled his way deeper into the darkness. Would she follow? Perhaps until the trees thinned and the air became less congested with the musk of the canopy; she needed to get back to the foothills and report to her Dark Lady, but keeping an eye on this strange stallion seemed a worthy diversion for the time being. “Where do we go?” she asked, following in step with the smoky unicorn; her voice had acquired a different cast, one that was relaxed, almost playful, as it spilled from her maw. |
